


Casual

by mistrali



Series: Malorie's Peak Prompts [2]
Category: Tricksters - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for MPP Distractions, #25. Dove/Aly kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casual

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad that neither of my pieces for this are very serious or really explore Dove as a character. The Balitangs don't get a lot of love in fic, so I'll write something more substantial later. For now, have shameless romance (not sure if it's fluff).

"Aly, I'm the queen, remember?" said Dove, keeping her voice and expression neutral, despite the flutter of her pulse at Aly's casual peck on the lips.  
"No reason a queen can't have a little fun now and then, your majesty," drawled Aly, draping an arm about the younger woman's waist and smiling flirtatiously, almost possessively. Dove had no doubt she'd turned the full brilliance of that smile onto many a Tortallan nobleman - or woman - with great success. 

"You're married, with three children under five," said Dove softly, determinedly. "Think how you will regret this later. I couldn't in all conscience kiss you, even if I did feel the same way about you as you obviously do about me."   
She could see the hurt on Aly's face - perfectly manufactured, no doubt, to set Dove's contrary heart to thumping. "Or are you just doing this to ensure my favours later on?" 

"I don't give kisses if I don't mean them," Aly said. "And Nawat... well. Nawat is my affair, Your Majesty. Crow-people are beginning to wear on me just now."

The lingering heat in Aly's second kiss left Dove panting, and she returned it before she realised what was happening. Aly's agile tongue felt fluid in her mouth, running over her lips and chin. She shivered as the feeling raised goosebumps on her skin. 

"Now your turn," said Aly, breathless herself.  
Dove kissed the underside of her wrist, tentatively. This was nothing, or only a little, like she'd had with Akash the evening of the ball. The business of producing heirs was routine, if precarious, and neither of them could afford to be sentimental. So, all the more reason not to give in to Aly's demands; what sort of spymaster mixed business with pleasure? They would need to have a word about that, just as soon as Dove's body stopped feeling as though it was rooted to the spot.

Aly's hand brushed her bare hip, underneath the undyed linen sarong she wore at night. She fought the urge to unwrap the sarong a little more, just to feel those warm fingers on her skin. But they moved up, across her body and towards her face: then they were playing lightly over her neck and through her hair. It was, admittedly, rather distracting; all Dove's careful resolution was threatening to float away like so much cottonseed.


End file.
